The History of the Crusades (vol. 1 of 3)

by J. Fr. Michaud

The true cross, placed upon an elevated spot, for a moment reanimated them, and drew around it the most fervent and the most intrepid. Saladin himself said, in a letter, that the Christian soldiers fought around the cross with the greatest bravery, and that they seemed to consider it the strongest tie that bound them together, and as their impenetrable buckler.[306] But the sight of a revered sign, and the passing ardour which it created, only served to increase the disorder of the fight. All the Mussulman forces united in one body to attack the Christians. The cavalry of Saladin poured down upon them several times with irresistible impetuosity, and penetrated through their ranks; victory was evidently about to incline to the side of the Saracens, when night put an end to the conflict. The Franks and the Saracens both remained on the plain where they had fought all day, and prepared to renew the battle on the morrow.

The Saracens were confident of victory. Saladin went through the ranks of his army, inflaming the courage of the Mussulman soldiers by his presence and his speeches. “To-morrow,” said he, “is a festival for the true believers, for it is on Friday that Mussulmans offer up their prayers, and that Mahomet listens to the vows that are made to him.” The Mussulmans replied to their leader by the loudest acclamations. Saladin then placed archers on the heights, ordered four hundred charges of arrows to be distributed, and disposed his troops in such a manner, that the Christian army should be surrounded from the very commencement of the contest. The Christian soldiers took advantage of the darkness to rally and close in their ranks; but their powers were exhausted. Sometimes they exhorted each other to brave death; and at others, raising their hands towards heaven, implored the All-Powerful to save them. They then uttered threats against the Saracens, who were near enough to hear them; but sad and sinister presentiments appeared to deprive them of all hopes of victory. In order to conceal their alarms, they made their camp resound during the whole night with the noise of drums and trumpets.

At last daylight appeared, and was the signal for the entire ruin of the Christian army. As soon as the Franks beheld the whole of the forces of Saladin, and found themselves surrounded on all sides, they were seized with surprise and terror. The two armies remained for a considerable time drawn up in sight of each other, Saladin waiting until the sun had completely illumined the horizon, to give the signal for attack. From dawn a strong wind had prevailed, which blew full in the faces of the Christians, and covered them with clouds of dust. When Saladin gave the fatal word, the Saracens rushed upon their enemies from all sides, uttering the most terrifying cries. To employ the expressions of Oriental writers, “It was then that the sons of Paradise and the children of fire fought out their terrible quarrel; the arrows sounded in the air like the noisy flight of birds; the water of swords ’sic), the blood of arrows spouted out from the bosom of the mêlée, and covered the earth like the waters of rain.”[307] The Christians at first defended themselves valiantly, but Saladin having set fire to the dry grass that covered the plain, the flames surrounded their army, and scorched the feet of both men and horses.

Disorder began to prevail in their ranks, but they fought bravely still. Swords gleamed through the flames, and the Christian knights, rushing from masses of smoke and fire, precipitated themselves, lance in hand, upon their enemies. In their despair, they endeavoured to pierce through the battalions of the Saracens, but everywhere met with an invincible resistance. Again and again they returned to the charge, and as often were they repulsed. A prey to hunger and a consuming thirst, they saw nothing around them but burning rocks and the sparkling swords of their enemies. The mountain of Ettin arose on their left, and in it they endeavoured to find an asylum; but, hotly pursued by the Saracens, they were cast, some down precipices, and others into narrow ravines, where their bravery was of no avail.

The knights of the Temple and St. John performed prodigies of valour, and fought until the close of day, rallying round the wood of the true cross. This sacred standard was borne by the bishop of Ptolemaïs, who was killed in the heat of the battle. The bishop of Lidda, who took it up and endeavoured to fly, was stopped, and taken prisoner. A cry of despair arose from among the Franks when they saw the sign of their safety in the hands of the conqueror; even the most brave cast away their arms, and without attempting to fly, rushed upon the swords of the infidels. The field of battle became nothing but a scene of desolation; and the Christian warriors who had not been able to save the cross of Christ, no longer feared either death or slavery. The king of Jerusalem was made prisoner with his brother Geoffrey, the grand master of the Templars, Renaud de Chatillon, and all the most illustrious knights of Palestine. Raymond, who commanded the vanguard of the Christian army, after having fought valiantly, opened for himself a passage through the Saracens, and fled to Tripoli,[308] where, a short time afterwards, he died of despair, accused by the Mussulmans of having violated treaties, and by the Christians of having betrayed both his religion and his country. Bohemond, prince of Antioch, Renaud of Sidon, the young count of Tiberias, and a small number of soldiers accompanied Raymond in his flight, and were the only persons that escaped after this day, so fatal to the kingdom of Jerusalem.

The Oriental historians whilst describing the victory of the Saracens, have celebrated the bravery and firmness of the Frank knights, covered with their cuirasses, made with rings of steel. These brave warriors at first presented an impenetrable wall to the strokes of the Saracens; but when their horses sunk, exhausted by fatigue, or wounded by lances or javelins, Saladin met with very little more resistance, and the battle became a horrible carnage. An Arabian author, a secretary and companion of Saladin, who was present at this terrible conflict, has not been able to refrain from pitying the disasters of the vanquished. “I saw,” says he, “the hills, the plains, the valleys covered with their dead bodies; I saw their colours abandoned and soiled with blood and dust; I saw their heads struck off, their members dispersed and their carcasses piled up like stones.” After the battle, the cords of the tents were not sufficient to bind the prisoners; the Saracen soldiers drove them in crowds, like vile herds of cattle. The conquerors divided the captives amongst them, and the number was so great, that, according to an historian, a pair of shoes was exchanged for a Christian knight.

Saladin caused a tent to be erected in his camp, in which he received Guy de Lusignan, and the principal leaders of the Christian army, whom victory had placed in his hands. He treated the king of the Franks with kindness, and ordered him to be served with a drink cooled in snow. As the king, after having drunk, presented the cup to Renaud de Chatillon, who was next to him, the sultan stopped him, and said, “That traitor shall not drink in my presence, for I will show him no favour.” Then addressing himself to Renaud, he made him the most severe reproaches for his violation of treaties, and threatened him with death if he did not embrace the religion of the prophet he had insulted. Renaud de Chatillon replied with noble firmness, and braved the menaces of Saladin, who struck him with his sabre. Some Mussulman soldiers, at the signal of their master, threw themselves upon the disarmed prisoner, and the head of a martyr of the cross fell at the feet of the king of Jerusalem.

On the following day the sultan ordered the knights of the Temple and St. John, who were among the prisoners, to be brought before him; and, as they were led past his throne, said, “I will deliver the earth of these two unclean races.” The grand master of the Templars found favour before him, doubtless because his imprudent counsels had given up the Christian army to the swords of the Saracens. A great number of emirs and doctors of the law surrounded the throne of Saladin, and the sultan permitted each of them to slay a Christian knight. Some of them refused to shed blood, and turned their eyes away from so odious a spectacle; but others, arming themselves with swords, massacred knights bound with fetters, without pity, whilst Saladin sat on his throne, applauding the horrible execution. The knights received the palm of martyrdom with joy; most of the prisoners were anxious for death; and many among them, although not belonging to the military orders, cried aloud that they were Hospitallers or Templars, and, as if they feared they should want executioners, pressed before each other, in order to secure the fatal stroke from the hands of the infidels.

Saladin disgraced his victory by this barbarity; the fear with which the Christians inspired him, even after defeat, made him cruel. He became more humane and generous when he felt more assured of his victory and confident of his power. Two days were devoted by the Mussulmans to returning thanks to Heaven for the victory with which it had blessed their arms; and then Saladin gave his attention to all the advantages that might be obtained from it. As soon as he became master of the citadel of Tiberias, he sent the wife of Raymond to Tripoli; and was, with his army, very shortly under the ramparts of Ptolemaïs. This city, full of merchants, and which, at a later period, sustained the attacks of the most powerful armies of the West, during three years, did not stand out two days against Saladin. The inhabitants had liberty to retire with their most valuable property; and the churches were converted into mosques, in which thanks were offered up to Mahomet for the triumphs obtained over the Christian soldiers.